And The Sun Burned Out
by Deceptive Flower
Summary: A collection of vignettes centred around the Volturi coven. 3: Alec was easily able to read his sister. Unlike himself, she wore her emotions blatantly and when something upset her, the whole world had to hear of it.
1. And the Sun Burned Out

Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer. If it belonged to me, the Volturi would have gotten their own novel.

**01. And The Sun Burned Out**

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><p>Marcus once believed the Sun was the centre of the entire universe; the stars and planets revolving around her and pulled by the gravity of her presence. He had heard many times of how one day the Sun would die; burn out completely to leave nothing but a dark void behind her. An emptiness that could neither be replaced nor filled. He hadn't believed it was possible; that anything could take away something so beautiful and powerful.<p>

Until it happened.

With shaking hands, Marcus sunk into the soft leather chair, his body seeming to convulse with the effort not to cry out her name. The curtains were drawn closed over the windows, casting the office into darkness and in the centre of the room, Marcus sat. His face was composed into an emotionless mask, so carefully held together one might have thought a simple utterance of condolences would shatter him completely. The darkness seemed to close in around him in a way that seemed too definite and final. The air grew cold. How could… how could she be dead? His face sunk into his shaking hands and a hard sob rocked through his body, breaking through the emotionless wall he had built.

What was he supposed to do without her? Didyme was the Sun of his universe; the heart of everything he had ever let his heart cling to. In such dainty hands, she had held everything. And just as easily as he had allowed her to steal his heart, she was ripped away from him in a cruel twist of fate.

He jumped slightly when a slender hand touched his shoulder and looked up to see Chelsea meeting his gaze. He hadn't heard her enter the room. Even in the darkness, he could make out the worry in her eyes as the guard looked down at her master.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, her own grief showing through. Marcus didn't react to her words except to look back at her with an empty gaze, devoid of feeling. He noticed her mouth twitch at the corners into a frown and knew that she had more to say. But he didn't want to hear it.

"I… I can't stay here any longer," The words left his mouth so abruptly, Marcus was almost uncertain he had been the one to say them at all. He seemed to have trouble breathing; despite the fact the oxygen was unnecessary. Even if the words had surprised him, he realised the truth of them. Without Didyme, it was as if his entire world had come crumbling down around him. He no longer felt like he had any purpose. Loving Didyme, _protecting_her had been his purpose and he had failed. Marcus closed his eyes briefly in pain, though his face held little evidence of it. "I can't stay," he repeated softly.

Chelsea bit her lip. Her hand moving to rest lightly on his shoulder as she hesitantly met his gaze. For a moment he thought he saw a trace of guilt. "You cannot leave, Master Marcus," she reasoned. "Think about…" she paused for a moment. "Think about Master Aro. You must comfort him. He too, has suffered a great loss. And what of Lady Didyme? What would… how would she feel if you abandoned Master Aro now?"

The words stung a little and for a moment Marcus felt the faintest flicker of remorse. Perhaps Chelsea was right. Somehow through the darkness, the shyest of glimmers presented itself. Marcus may have lost his wife, but Aro had lost a sister. Her death had done double the damage. He didn't realise he was nodding in agreement with Chelsea until she gave him a sympathetic smile.

"Master Aro will need you now more than ever," she continued quietly.

Again, Marcus found himself nodding. Aro would need him. The phrase repeated itself in his thoughts, slowly convincing him that perhaps leaving was not the right choice, after all. Logically, he should stay. He owed that much to Didyme. He could not protect her from fate's cruel clutches, but he would watch over her brother and he would not fail again.

"Forgive me, Chelsea. You're... you're right. I must think of Aro's pain aside from my own," Marcus replied. "I... I will stay. For Aro's sake."

Chelsea seemed to accept this answer, because her hand slipped from his shoulder as she backed away and retreated to the door to leave him be. Marcus was fine with that. He wanted to be alone, wrapped in his own grief and thoughts of the Sun that had burned out of his universe.

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><p><em>In case there is any confusion, or if you need a little refresher, Chelsea has the ability to manipulate ties between people. According to canon, Aro had Chelsea use her ability on Marcus to keep him loyal to the Volturi. <em>

_I may or may not extend this to a series of vignettes focusing on various Volturi members, but I'll let you guys decide if it's worth it. _

_Thanks for reading!_


	2. Some Rules Are Meant to Be Broken

Disclaimer: Not mine.

**02. Some Rules Are Meant to Be Broken**

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><p>"Damn the law!" Caius' fist hit the table with a loud thump, breaking the silence between the three gentlemen.<p>

Aro's gaze flicked to the other man; red milky eyes narrowing. "Please, Caius, do calm down."

Aro was seated in his office, hands steepled under his chin as Marcus and Caius sat across from him. They had been in a deep discussion about recruiting a new round of guard members, but somehow in the middle of it, the discussion had turned into a debate about the werewolves – Children of the Moon, as they were called.

"Do not patronise me, Aro!" Caius was seething. "Their very existence is a danger to us all! I want them eradicated immediately!"

A flutter of movement next to Caius told him that Marcus clearly had his own opinion on the matter. Aro extended his hand and their fingers touched briefly, allowing the dark-haired man to read into Marcus' thoughts. A low hum left him as he retracted his hand and returned his steady gaze to Caius. "Marcus makes a good point," he began, "the wolves have technically done nothing wrong-"

"They nearly had me killed!"

Aro glared, irked at being interrupted. "_One_ nearly had you killed, dear brother. That does not speak for the actions of the other wolves. Now, as I was saying," he continued calmly, "They have technically done nothing wrong, and we have made it clear that we do not execute without cause, but," he paused, his lips thinning into a smile, "if it will ease your mind, I am sure something can be arranged."

Caius leaned back in his chair, still sour. "It will."

Aro lifted his chin a fraction. He understood that Caius was still quite shaken over his incident with the Children of the Moon, even if the man did not say so. He had been almost killed by one and would have, had a collection of guards not shown up in time to destroy it. He knew Caius would not let the matter rest until something was done about it. He had learned quickly in the past of that much. Being a man of ill temper, Caius was far too stubborn and didn't let the things that bothered him go easily until a solution could be made. He figured, rather than continue this tiresome argument, he would simply allow Caius to have these wolves extinguished. It was of no consequence to him, anyways. They would not be missed.

"Very well, then," Aro replied. "We can arrange a mission for a small crew of our guards to take care of the matter, and you, brother, may lead them. Now," he waved his hand in a dismissal, signalling that the time for this discussion was closing, "is there anything else you wish to say before we return to our previous topic?"

Caius remained silent. As did Marcus.

Aro smiled thinly. "Good."

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><p><em>Just a small glimpse to how the Volturi leaders work things out. <em>

_Thank you to my first two reviewers! _

_Enjoy._


	3. Like Father

Disclaimer: Twilight and its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.

Author's note: Thanks for the reviews. Hopefully this chapter will be much more entertaining. Just as a heads up, descriptions are with movie-verse Jane and Alec in mind and also a bit of my own creative license, because frankly, I dislike the official guide.

I have a ridiculous amount of muse for Jane and Alec. Jane especially, because she's my favourite and after roleplaying her character for almost four years, I feel like I know her like the back of my hand. That being said, this is sort of based on something I roleplayed a couple weeks ago, but nothing big enough that you'll be lost. Anyways, I'm rambling.

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><p><em><strong>03. Like Father<strong>_

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><p>Jane was having one of <em>those<em> days again, and when that happened everyone knew it was best to stay off her radar and out of her way until the storm had passed, unless they wanted to be greeted by the unwelcome onslaught of pain inflicted by a mere blink of the eye. The nervous skitter of lower guards all but making themselves melt into the walls of the Palazzo told that they had met the brunt of Jane's ability more than enough to learn when to run.

Of course, there were always exceptions to the rule and Alec was one of them. Rather than avoid his sister, he followed her stride for stride down the dimly lit hallway in the only kind of synchronization that could come from years of leaning on each other when things got bad.

Alec was easily able to read his sister. Unlike himself, she wore her emotions blatantly and when something upset her, the whole world had to hear of it. He was, of course, smart enough not to comment on it. Not right now, at least. He merely studied his twin out of the corner of his eye with the same blank expression he always wore and rarely ever let down. Don't feel, push the emotions away. Bottle them up so you don't get hurt. That's what he'd always told himself. The world was better without emotion.

Jane, on the other hand, was his opposite in almost every way. In fact, if they hadn't been born on the same day, many would have guessed they weren't related at all. They didn't look much alike. Alec was given dark hair that fell neatly against his forehead in such pristine manner it was as if he were trying to prove something. Jane, while equally pristine in appearance, had hair the colour of spun gold pulled into a tight bun at the back of her head. Alec had a few freckles dotting his nose. Jane's skin was free of them. Alec's hands were calloused. Jane's were scarred; a testament to her penchant for pain and any sharp object she could get her hands on that was strong enough to pierce the stony flesh they had both acquired upon their transformations.

Where Alec was the silent, calculating type that rarely raised his voice above a murmur, Jane was fiery and let her anger get the best of her often enough that she found herself in Master Aro's office at least twice a week for causing unnecessary havoc among the lower guards. Hot and cold. Fire and ice. That was who they were. Opposites and yet alike in the ways that counted. Siblings. Twins. They trusted each other in a way they could never bring themselves to trust anyone else. Not after everything they had been through. They were witch twins, or so they had been accused of and had paid the price for such superstitions. The scarred, rippled texture of skin that adorned both their legs from the knees down told as much. Even after centuries, both the twins could clearly remember the way the fire licked their skin and peeled it back like wallpaper, but neither ever admitted to it. No one could be trusted. Everyone would eventually turn their back on you. That's what life had taught them. That's what the actions of their parents had taught them.

Jane stopped at the end of the hallway and opened the door to her room, walking in without a word. Alec followed. His room was directly across from hers. They were practically the only ones – besides the lower guards and Masters – whom actually lived within the walls of the Palazzo dei Priori. Stuck at the bitter age of twelve for eternity, they were damned at an age too young to be seen as independent individuals, but young enough that their red eyes held a touch of oddly placed malice that made even the bravest of men shiver in fear. They were twins. Witch twins. Devil twins.

Alec shut the door after them and turned around in time to see Jane kick her desk chair clear across the room. It hit the wall with a loud bang and left a large dent. Aro would not be pleased by that. The chair was now on the floor in several pieces. Jane didn't seem to care. She merely glared at the pile and sunk into the plush, black leather sofa on the opposite end of the room.

Alec sighed and took the seat beside her. "What's wrong?" he asked finally.

Jane's lips were set in a firm line and, for a moment, Alec thought she wasn't going to say anything. Then she opened her mouth to speak. "Corin… said I was abusive."

"You are."

A noise somewhere between a growl and a cry left Jane's lips and she whipped her head to glare at him. "I am _not._ I am _not_ abusive, Alec. I torture people who deserve it. That's different. You know it is."

Alec put his hand on Jane's shoulder to calm her before she could get too worked up. "I know that."

"Father was abusive. I am not like our father." Jane looked away, fists clenching.

"Of course not." Alec didn't have the heart to tell her otherwise.

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><p><em>Review please?<em>


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